


No Sanctuary

by lyrasa



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dream Smp, George POV, M/M, Multiple Pov, Reality Bending, Temporary Character Death, Tommy POV, WandaVision AU, au but not really, buckle your seatbelts kids, but the Dream SMP is canon, how do I even tag this, it's confusing but please give me a chance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:22:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29899680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrasa/pseuds/lyrasa
Summary: Tommy is dead, Dream is a murderer. But it’s a bit more complicated than that.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the vague summary, I really can’t give much more without spoiling the fic. You just have to trust me on this one. 
> 
> I am hesitant to tag with Wandavision spoilers, because this fic only steals a couple of key concepts from it. But proceed with caution if you’d prefer to go into Wandavision blind. 
> 
> Title (and tbh, entire fic vibes) from [No Sanctuary by UNSECRET](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i5vASpFCLiM&ab_channel=UNSECRET). Go listen to that if you want to fully grasp how much of a rollercoaster this is going to be.

Tommy wakes up. 

“Whoa,” a voice beside him says, hands reach out to steady him, settling on his back. “Easy Tommy, you’ve had a bit of a shock.”

Tommy blinks, his eyes readjusting to the sterile light beating down mercilessly from all angles. Screwing up his eyes tightly, he begins to make out white walls, a machine sits beeping in the corner. The bedsheets he sits on are the same awful sterile white. 

He knows where he is, a hospital, of some sorts. But there’s a yawning disconnect between what he remembers and his current present. He remembers an obsidian floor, lava sizzling in front of him. An impenetrable and inescapable cell. He remembers anger, and screaming, and pain. That’s when it clicks. In his reality there is no such thing as a hospital-

“What the fuck,” Tommy manages to croak out, his head throbbing. He looks up, to the hands steadying him only to see-

  
“ _Wilbur?”_

He’s dead. There’s no other explanation. He bled out on that prison floor. Dream-

Tommy cries out as his head splinters. He hears Wilbur wince in sympathy. 

“Don’t try and recall too much, not yet anyway. Your consciousness is still adjusting to being outside.”

Tommy shakes his head at the strange wording. Outside? They are under a roof aren’t they? Outside where?

“Is this the afterlife?” Tommy asks. 

Wilbur laughs, shaking his head. “Not at all. This is real life Tommy.”

Tommy looks up, at Wilbur sitting on a flimsy plastic chair at his bedside. He’s almost exactly as Tommy remembers, before everything went wrong. Same curly hair, slightly too long to truly be fashionable, same eyes, that seemingly stare right into Tommy and lay his secrets bare. His outfit, though, is completely foreign. A black jumpsuit zipped up tight. Around his neck, on a lanyard, sits some sort of beeping metal device. Tommy reaches for it. 

“Ah, ah.” Wilbur says, leaning back. “You’ll get one of your own soon enough. We’re just waiting for the tests to come back, see whether there’s any trace radiation in your blood.”

“Trace radiation?” Tommy asks, his head fuzzy. 

“I’m not going to explain anything more until you get properly debriefed.” Wilbur says, patting Tommy on the arm. “It’s for your own sanity, really. When I woke up I ended up trashing my room, took a bit of time for my memories to line up. You’ll start remembering soon though, then your head will hurt a bit less.”

Tommy pushes Wilbur’s hand off him, “I don’t understand. I died, I was beaten to death. That was my last life. Wilbur, what happened. _Where the hell am I?_ ”

“Whoa Tommy easy,” Wilbur says, reaching for him. Tommy shakes Wilbur off, jumping off the bed. His legs shake, pins and needles protesting but he pushes past it. 

Tommy runs to the window, tearing open the curtains. He blinks, staggers back, trying to take in the impossibility, the magnanimity of what he sees. A dome, sparking an electric cyan, stretching high into the sky and curving away from them. Beyond the barrier, the landscape jumps and shifts, flashes of familiar structures that tugs at something deep in Tommy’s memory.

“Yep,” Wilbur chuckles from behind him, coming to stand at his side. “It’s certainly a view.”

“Wilbur,” Tommy says, hand dropping as he takes in the sight. “Where the hell are we.”

“Tommy,” Wilbur says, all humour in his voice falling away, his face grave. “Welcome to the Canaveral Anomaly.”

O-O O-O O-O

[ **_twitter.com_ ** ](http://twitter.com)

**BBC Breaking News** @BBCBreaking

BREAKING NEWS: The Canaveral Anomaly has expanded to a radius of 25 miles. Orlando residents expected to be asked to evacuate their homes. President Biden rebukes Putin, saying the US government is “working round the clock with world class experts to determine the cause.” No one has yet to be trapped in the Anomaly. 

**DREAMSMP UPDATES!** @smpupdate

Tommy lost a canon life! 

Reason: Killed by Dream when stuck in prison together

**tia loves george** @gogysimpextraordinaire

the audacity of some of y’all trying to blame george for everything that’s happened on the smp just because he’s too smart to get involved in politics. i’m a george apologist until the day i die. 

O-O O-O O-O

**LOCATION: Kinoko Kingdom (Dream SMP) TIME: ???**

George sits on top of a mushroom, watching the world go by. He lets himself breathe, marvelling at the ease of the expansion of his lungs. He tips his head back, revelling in the soft breeze that caresses his face and stirs the flower field around him. 

In the distance, he spies a figure, outlined by the setting sun. As the figure draws closer, George notices he’s walking with a limp, his shoulders hunched with a grim determination.

“George!” the figure shouts up at him, once he’s within earshot. George sighs, so much for inner peace. 

“Sapnap,” George greets him, shuffling to the edge and sliding off the tall mushroom. He stumbles a bit on the landing, fortunately Sapnap reaches out, steadying him. 

“Have you heard?” Sapnap asks, gripping tightly onto his arm, “Have you heard what _he_ did?”

There’s no question as to who Sapnap is talking about, it’s in the way he spits the word _he_ like an insult. George turns away slightly, he had hoped to avoid this conversation. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” George says, pulling himself free of Sapnap’s grip. 

“George,” Sapnap says, reaching out. “You can’t keep hiding from this. You can’t keep pretending he’s still who he was.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” George says, beginning to walk away. 

Sapnap catches up to him with ease, George speaks before he can open his mouth, “How did you get that anyway?” he says, gesturing to the leg Sapnap seems to be favouring. 

Sapnap grimaces, “Sprained my ankle running away from the main Dream SMP,” he admits, “Sam….he was angry. Wanted to take it out on someone. Even if he knows I don’t associate with Dream anymore, we were still the closest before. Well apart from….” Sapnap trails off. George is keen not to hear the rest

“You need to put some ice on that,” George remarks, ignoring the subtle hint of a subject change. He offers Sapnap his shoulder, Sapnap shakes his head. George shrugs, “Come on I think I’ve got some snow in my cold chests.”

They walk shoulder to shoulder in tense silence, the weight of an unspoken third name hanging between them. George leads them to his little cottage, opening the door and ushering Sapnap inside. Sapnap collapses into a kitchen chair gratefully, while George moves past him rummaging through his chests until he emerges with a couple of icy snowballs. He wraps them carefully in a piece of discarded cloth, before moving over to Sapnap and pulling a second chair out, indicating that Sapnap should put his leg up on it. 

“The vines are worse than ever,” Sapnap says, propping his leg up on the chair. George hums quietly in acknowledgement while he carefully ties the cold cloth around the swollen ankle. “We may have to do something about them soon, if they ever reach the borders of Kinoko.”

“They won’t,” George says, with a quiet steely confidence that shocks even himself. 

Sapnap laughs, “George you can’t know that.”

George does know that, but he doesn’t know how he knows. So he stays quiet. 

Sapnap sighs, tipping his head back. “I’ll talk to Karl, he seems to know more than we do about a lot of things. Maybe he’ll have an idea what to do about the egg.”

George nods, finishing the knot. “There we go, all done. Just try and not put too much pressure on it over the next couple of days. Give it time to heal.”

He steps back, but is stopped by Sapnap reaching out, swinging his leg down from the chair. “Sit, George.”

George doesn’t want to sit, he has a sinking suspicion what Sapnap wants to talk to him about, and he doesn’t want to hear it. 

Nevertheless, he knows he can’t keep running forever.He sinks into the seat opposite Sapnap and braces himself. 

“George,” Sapnap starts, reaching for him, settling a hand on his arm. “We need to talk about Dream.”

The name settles deep in George’s bones, he feels the air around him shiver with the weight of it. 

“No we don’t,” he finds himself saying, lowering his eyes. 

“He killed Tommy,” Sapnap said, “Tommy was just a kid. A defenceless kid. Like we once were. And Dream, he punched his face in while a _child_ was screaming, crying, _begging_ for mercy-"

“Enough,” George says sharply. He regrets ever sitting down at this table. Thinking he was ready for this discussion. 

“ _George_ ,” Sapnap says with a strange sense of urgency. “You can’t do this anymore. We can’t stay neutral. There’s a child dead in that obsidian cell because of him. He doesn’t care anymore, about anything-“

“You’re wrong,” George says, shaking his head. 

Sapnap laughs, an awful, twisted, cynical sound. “George, do you really think he still cares about us? Cares about _you?_ Grow up!”

George can’t help but flinch, Sapnap sighs, leaning back. “Sorry,” he mumbles, his voice lower. “But you can’t do this anymore George. I’m saying this because I care about you, because I’m worried about you.”

George thinks he’s got a funny way of showing it, forcing this conversation in the first place. 

“George,” Sapnap says, his voice pleading. “It’s time for you to choose a side.”

George sighs, standing up. “Don’t put more weight on that ankle than necessary. If you need extra supplies or materials, ask one of us to get it for you. You don’t want to do more damage or it’ll take much longer to heal.”

“George-“ Sapnap says standing up, facing George. “George, _you’re a part of it too_ , you can’t avoid this.”

George shakes his head, “I’ll come by tomorrow and see how you’re doing. But for now you need to rest.”

“George, please just _listen to me_ -“ Sapnap pleads as George ushers him towards the door.

“Goodbye,” George snaps, slamming the door in Sapnap’s face. He stands for a second, his back to the door, breathing heavily. 

He crosses to the kitchen window, watches as Sapnap stands in front of the door for a few heartbeats before he moves away, shaking his head and hobbling towards the lights of Karl’s house.

George stands for second staring out the window _in, out, in, out_. Reminding himself of the miracle of his breath. 

He crosses to the door, grabbing the threadbare cloak that hangs beside it, pulling it around his shoulders and the hood up over his hair before he pulls the door open, stepping through into the balmy late evening. The sun has almost set, the sky a deep, royal purple. 

He’s careful to go in the opposite direction to Sapnap, to the hill at the border of Kinoko. He sets one foot in front of the other, breathing heavily, his chest tight as he scrambles up. Finally, he summits, to the west, the sky is still light, but rapidly darkening as the last of the sun fades away. To the east, some stars are starting to wink into view, George greets them silently, taking comfort in their silent, unchanging nature. 

Finally, George looks north, past Kinoko. To where a dark shadow looms on the horizon. George stares at it, imagining he can see through the haze, past the netherite towers and the hellfire of the lava, to the obsidian box at its centre, its sole occupant huddled on the cold, unforgiving floor.

There’s a glow, faint, from beside him. George keeps his eyes trained on the horizon.

“Why did you do it?” George asks softly. 

The light is silent, probably the closest George will get to an apology. 

“Fine,” George says, shaking his head. 

_You’re safe_ , the light inquires, George feels it graze his wrist where it hangs by his side. 

“Don’t,” George says sharply, pulling away. 

_Please_ , the light shines brighter, reaching for George. 

“Leave me alone,” George says, he watches as the light flickers, doubting.

_George,_ the light begs. 

“I said _leave me alone_ ,” George snaps, turning around and slashing his hand through the air. Light flickers and dissipates across his finger tips. He watches as it splinters, floating away on the last of the evening wind. 

George sighs, feeling the night wind rush by him. He stand for a second longer, watching the last of the light wink out before turning back to the cozy lights of Kinoko.

He will not choose a side, but he will choose his home, over and over. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE. TAKE IT. I know two updates in one day who the hell am I? But this is just so exciting to write. There's so much here to play with. 
> 
> Also, there's a cameo of a certain marvel character. This isn't intended to be a crossover so she isn't listed, but it's fun to throw her in here nonetheless. Think of her as like an Earth-14 (aka, multiverse) version of her character.

> **US GOV REPORT** **CLASSIFIED - L-CLEARENCE**
> 
> **REPORT ON ACTION FOR THE CANAVERAL ANOMALY - 06.27.2020**
> 
> _Please be aware that some information is only available at the Q-Clearance level. Please contact your administrator if you believe this is a mistake._
> 
> The following is an assessment of the action that should be taken re: the Canaveral Anomaly.
> 
> The inside appears to be some form of augmented reality. How it came to be remains a mystery. What is even more mysterious is the fact that although the barrier appears impenetrable, we have eyes on the inside. Or more accurately, the entire world has eyes on the inside. 
> 
> The streaming website [twitch.com](http://twitch.com) seems to be streaming all events within the Anomaly across channels associated with popular gaming content creators. The list of all associated gaming content creators which stream the events are listed below:
> 
> DREAMWASTAKEN Real name: [REDACTED]
> 
> GEORGENOTFOUND Real name: [REDACTED] _(special thanks to MI6 for this information)_
> 
> SAPNAP Real name: [REDACTED]
> 
> BADBOYHALO Real name: [REDACTED]
> 
> PONK Real name: [REDACTED] _(special thanks to MI6 for this information)_
> 
> In addition there are three other characters inhabiting the Anomaly, all real people linked to the streamers. 
> 
> CALLAHAN Real name: [REDACTED]
> 
> ITSALYSSA Real name: [REDACTED]
> 
> AWESAMDUDE Real name: [REDACTED]
> 
> It is important to note that although it appears on streams as though the characters above are residing within the popular sandbox game Minecraft, there is every reason to believe that the reality inside the anomaly in fact resembles that of the real world–albeit with materials and restrictions set by the gameplay.
> 
> This paper suggests introducing a new member, one who has been fully briefed as to the nature of the Anomaly, with the intent of investigating. In order to not destabilise the reality inside the Anomaly, it is suggested that this new member be a pre-existing twitch streamer, preferably with some experience in Minecraft. 
> 
> After extensive research, the following names are suggested: 
> 
> WILBUR SOOT
> 
> TOMMYINNIT
> 
> TUBBO
> 
> FUNDY
> 
> NIHACHU 
> 
> Pre-emptive security checks are already in motion. They would just need to be invited to participate. 

O-O O-O O-O

**LOCATION: Outside the Anomaly. TIME: 23:56, 03.01.2020**

The tests come back, Tommy is given a beeping thing to wear round his neck (“to measure radiation levels,” a grim faced man in a well-cut suit says) and is let out, down a long corridor lit by the eerie glow of the dome outside the window. 

Wilbur knocks on a wall as they walk, “This is all temporary,” he says. “A temporary base, we should be fine for another week but if the Anomaly expands…”

His sentence hangs in the air, Tommy sneaks another glance out the window. 

“Wilbur,” he said, catching up. “I don’t understand. I’m dead. I died.”

“Sure,” Wilbur says, shrugging. “At least in there you did. Fortunately, that isn’t reality. Or true reality, at least. I think it technically classifies as an alternate reality. I’m not sure though, you’ll have to ask the scientists on this one.”

Tommy shakes his head, “You’re not making any sense.”

Wilbur looks over at him, the corners of his eyes crinkled in a sympathetic glance, “You will soon, your memories of before you entered should start to re-assert themselves now that you’re out of the influence. It’ll take a while.”

“Wilbur-“ Tommy tried, but he’s cut off as they enter a large room, resplendent with black slabs of _something_ glowing with lights. Across the slabs run numbers, strange diagrams and even, Tommy notices, a picture of him. Tommy stops, pauses, looks around. _Monitors_ a little voice in the back of his head says. 

“Ah, the woman of the hour,” Wilbur says, approaching a woman with long curly hair and rather large glasses hunched over a small machine that Tommy somehow knows is called a _laptop_. “Question is it an alternate reality or a false reality?”

“Neither,” the woman replies, leaning back. “It’s a PAR–that’s Pocket Augmented Reality. Also we have to send Tommy back in.”

Wilbur moves in front of Tommy, almost protectively. “No way,” he says. “We just got him out of there, we’re not about to put him back _in._ ”

The woman shakes her head, “The Anomaly is stabilising. The lack of drama, the lack of plot–if you will–makes it easier to sustain. We need to cause chaos, we need to put him back in.”

“Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on,” Tommy says loudly. The woman looks up, wide-eyed behind her glasses. She looks at Wilbur, Wilbur shrugs. 

  
“He has a right to know.”

She sighs, “By the time we put him back in he’ll forget it all already.It’s not worth it, we don’t want to risk potentially unravelling his mind by loading more information into it. Besides, the longer he stays out here, the more he’ll start to remember. It would be kinder to move now. We have 72 hours before the residual effects of the Anomaly start to wear off, at most.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Tommy blurts out. She looks up at him, sighs, standing up and smoothing down her sweater. 

“Darcy Lewis, I deal with this sort of stuff professionally,” she says, holding out a hand.

Tommy takes it, but not without suspicion. “Tommy,” he says.

“Oh no I know, I’m a huge fan,” she says, grinning. “Easily the best character on the SMP if you ask me.”

“What is causing it then?” Tommy asks, moving past Wilbur, trying to catch a glimpse of the woman’s laptop screen. She snaps it such before he can even snatch a peek. 

“Ten months on, we still have no idea,” she admits. 

“I told you, put me back in I’ll blow the entire thing up,” Wilbur says, nonchalantly from behind Tommy.

“Despite the fact that that would be a _suicide mission,”_ Darcy says, shooting a look at Wilbur. “It’s very likely it would kill everyone inside.”

“This thing is taking the entire state of Florida hostage.” Wilbur retorts, crossing his arms. “Who’s to say that wouldn’t expand to America? Not that I’m particularly fond of either but then when it starts becoming a global threat?”

Darcy rolls her eyes, “Calm down drama queen, we have contingencies for if it gets much bigger.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt the first time you’ve ever talked to a _woman_ Wilbur but Mrs. Lewis. Miss Lewis. Darcy, if I will.”

Darcy looks at him over the rim of her glasses, “Dr. Lewis if we’re going to be professional. I have a couple of PhDs under my belt.”

“Great thanks. Dr. Darcy–I mean Dr. Lewis. Not to be rude or anything but literally what the fuck are we dealing with here?”

“Well I don’t see any harm in telling you that much,” Darcy mutters, seemingly more for her benefit than anyone else’s. “Like I said it’s a PAR–an alternate reality that exists within our observable universe but doesn’t necessarily follow the same rules nor mechanics. I’ve seen this sort of thing before, nothing on this scale though. And nothing quite as much of a PR disaster.”

“PR disaster?” Tommy asks. 

Darcy waves a hand, “Russia and China are trying to undermine us while trying to gain access.And the usual internal political squabbling.” She sighs, “And then there’s the problem of the Dream SMP. No one’s made the link yet between a Minecraft role-play server and the Anomaly. I mean why should they? But it doesn’t make me very comfortable that whatever is happening in there is being projected to the entire world.”

Something deep in Tommy’s resonates with her words, _Minecraft, SMP, server._ All of a sudden, it snaps. There’s a brief spike of pain in his head, before it fades away. 

“Hang on,” he says slowly, “Minecraft. I remember it.”

Darcy looks at him, sharply. 

“The best. I was the best at Minecraft,” Tommy says a smile slowly growing on his face. “Even better than that green bastard-“ There’s a sudden pressure on the inside of his head. He winces and it ebbs and subsides. 

Darcy cocks her head, “Not quite, but there’s the TommyInnit we all know and love.”

“So,” Tommy tests slowly. “You’re telling me that everything I know, L’Manburg, the Disc Wars, the Prison–it all exists within this alternate reality. Not only that but people are watching it as some sort of–sick _reality TV?_ ” Tommy turns to Wilbur, pleading. “Wilbur we’re dead. Please just tell me we’re dead and this is the afterlife and this is just an extremely elaborate prank.”

Wilbur shakes his head, “Sorry. It’s all true. If it’s any consolation you’re taking it much better than I did when I found out.”

“He had to be restrained for three days,” Darcy chimes in brightly. “Anyway it’s not _reality TV_ , not exactly. People think it’s an SMP–that’s survival multiplayer world–“

“Can’t believe I’m being educated on Minecraft,” Tommy mutters under his breath, although he can’t really place why he’s so infuriated by the concept. 

“-there’s a massive community on twitter actually. You guys have broken records, it’s kind of insane.”

“I said he’d be a big deal,” Wilbur grins. 

“Hang on,” Tommy says, looking at Wilbur. “Me?”

“Yeah man you’re huge. You once hit 700k live viewers, you have any idea how amazing those numbers are?”

“ _Anyway as I was saying_ ,” Darcy says, raising her eyebrows. “The entire reality, it _is fundamentally a Minecraft SMP_. It follows game mechanics. And we’re trying to kill it.”

“Kill it?” Tommy questions. 

“I wish,” Wilbur mutters. 

“End it,” Darcy corrects herself. “The more plot there is, the more unstable the Anomaly appears to become. The current theory is that it’s because it’s following a story, and a story has always got an ending. The theory goes that if the story ends, the PAR should collapse, and reality– _our_ reality–restores itself.”

“Great, great, brilliant,” Tommy says, nodding, trying to desperately pretend he understand exactly what the hell is going on. “And how do we do that?"

“How do you end a Minecraft SMP? We follow game mechanics,” she says, opening her laptop screen, showing a Wikipedia entry, of all things. “How do you beat Minecraft?”

Tommy remembers, “You get to the End.”

Darcy grins, “Exactly. You get to the End.”

O-O O-O O-O

[ **_twitch.com_ ** ](http://twitch.com)

JackManifoldTV is live : TIME TO CELEBRATE! || DREAM SMP

BadBoyHalo is live: We're Celebrating on the Dream SMP! 

CaptainPuffy is live: I FAILED TOMMY!

O-O O-O O-O

**LOCATION: Pandora’s Box (Dream SMP) TIME: ???**

Sam patrols the prison one more time, checking, checking, _checking_ that there’s no possibility of escape. No possibility of setting the monster he’s trapped inside loose upon the world. 

As he approaches the lava wall he pauses. He can’t do it. He can’t bring it upon himself to retrieve the body, _not yet_. He can’t stand to walk in, past the smug look of his prisoner and gather up the broken pieces of the boy he’d sworn to himself he would protect. 

He pauses when he hears a sound, from beyond the lava. He stills for a moment, thinking he imagined it. 

He did not imagine it. 

There’s a gasp, a sob. 

Sam stands still in wonderment, surely this can’t be tears. Surely this can’t be remorse. 

“George please,” the voice weeps, almost inaudible past the hissing of the lava, a cry of grief and loss. 

Sam stands still a second, a wave of hatred crashing into him. The sheer audacity of it. Tommy is dead, but Dream does not weep for him. Instead he weeps for a friend who refuses to take sides, who Sam hasn’t seen in months. Who, he suspects, stay out of conflict, not for convenience, but more out of apathy. 

Sam begins to wonder how he ever worked with Dream. How they were ever friends, in the time before. The time before the lust for power, the desire for total control over the world in which they inhabited had overgrown everything else.

Well, Sam reasoned. Everything except one thing. Maybe Dream had made a fatal mistake in making new enemies out of old friends. He had underestimated just how much Sam knows about him. 

Dream had said he had no attachments, Dream had lied. 

It's perhaps past time he pays Kinoko Kingdom a visit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos are what I live off. Please please leave some scraps for me. And I'd stick around, it's about to get real juicy.

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHHH guys I’m excited for this one. As in I’ve already written a terrifying amount of it. I wrote Marvel fic for about three years so I’m very excited to be back in that same weird and wacky canon that Marvel fics allow. It’s also super fun to be pulling on ideas from some of my all-time favourite fics to create something that hasn’t really been done in this ship yet. It’s only going to get more insane from here on out. Trust me. 
> 
> This is a planned fic and it will be continued! But please if you enjoyed leave comments and kudos. It helps boost the fic and also helps boost the author because finding the energy to write while keeping up with my uni work is really hard sometimes. 
> 
> Theories! Theories! I would love to hear them. Please leave them below!
> 
> yell at me on tumblr: [lyrasa](https://lyrasa.tumblr.com)
> 
> (Also those waiting on My Hands Are Shaking From Holding Back From You - I'm so sorry but an update is coming! Soon! I promise!)


End file.
